I BELIEVE IN MUSIC
by Bob Jinkerson
"Music is love and love is music if you know
what I mean
And people who believe in music are the happiest
people I've ever seen".
Those words, written and recorded several years ago
by Mac Davis, may sound simple but they go right to the heart of a profound
truth--a truth I have seen over and over again in my life. But it was
never more evident than through this memorable experience.
I was still living at my parents' home in the
mid-70s, playing music professionally. I decided to start giving private
lessons and my parents graciously let me convert one room of the house into a
studio for my instruments. Living in a rural area about 40 miles south of
St. Louis, I didn't know what to expect when I advertised for students. To
my surprise, I got responses from a wide cross section of people.
One middle aged lady, Mrs. Cole, drove about twenty
miles over winding, country roads that weren't the best but she never missed a
lesson. One day she came in carrying an extra bag. Curious I asked
"What's in the bag?" Hesitantly, she reached in and pulled out a
piece of handwritten sheet music that was covered with a protective plastic
wrap.
She explained that her next door neighbor was an
elderly lady who had just recently lost her husband. For the occasion of
their 50th wedding anniversary, the woman wrote a poem for him. In turn
her husband, who was from Russia and had been a violinist and pianist, composed
a melody for the poem and had paid someone to transcribe the music for him.
He was going to perform the song for his wife's 80th birthday, but sadly passed
away a couple of weeks before the occasion. She ofund the music and the
accompanying card while going through his papers.
Not being a musician herself, she had no idea how
the melody went. When she learned that Mrs. Cole was taking piano lessons
she asked if she could play the melody for her. Mrs. Cole looked at the
music, but told her neighbor she didn't feel confident enough to try it.
Instead, she asked if she could take it to her teacher.
I was incredibly moved by this story and asked Mrs.
Cole to call her neighbor to see if i could keep the music for a few days to
practice it. The lady agreed.
After Mrs. Cole left, I studied the music and began
playing the melody and singing the words. They were among the most
romantic and loving I had ever heard and the melody was haunting and
beautiful--hearkening back, I am sure, to a more romantic time in his native
country.
After I felt comfortable with the song I taped it
on a cassette and gave it, and the music, to Mrs. Cole for her neighbor.
The next day I received a call from Mrs. Cole's neighbor. It was difficult
for her to talk, but she asked how much she owed me, adding that no amount of
money could repay the joy she received at hearing the song for the first time.
I was pretty emotional myself as I assured her she owed me nothing--that I was
proud to be a part of such a wonderful expression of love.
A few days later I received a large envelope.
In it was a check and a handkerchief wrapped around something. I opened it
and there was an old-fashioned gold tie pin with a treble clef on the end.
The handwriting on the note was shaky, but I could make it out:
"These were my husband's. I want you to have them. God bless
you and thank you for sharing your gift of music".
When I hear "I believe in music, I believe in
love" I think of that couple and remember to give thanks for the gift of
music.
Bob Jinkerson